Prometheus Unbound
by SasuNaruForever17
Summary: L.A. 1928. A detective falls in love with the wrong man and tragedy ensues. Warnings inside, please read them. USUK


**Warnings: Depictions of murder, language, consensual and non-con sex, and may/may not be character death, it's how you interpret it. Please, Read at your own risk! (Excuse any errors, this is un-beta'd)  
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_Prometheus Unbound_

Detective Kirkland never let the killer get away. No matter the case, he would fight, tooth and nail until justice was brought. He was an expert at his job, having worked at the Los Angeles LAPD for more than a couple years. Moving up in rank, Kirkland was now at the Homicide Desk where he was working with murder cases. It was a messy job, but it had to be done.

The case he was currently working on was a gruesome one. So far, three bodies had been recovered. Each was male, and each had had the same thing happen. They were presumed raped while they were still alive. Then, their neck had been slashed open, causing them to bleed to death. Lastly, their genitalia was cut off and was no where to be found.

Kirkland knew this was going to be a hard case since the killer had been very clean with everything he did. There wasn't a trace of semen to go by, or any witnesses. All he had were times when the victims were found, and what they had been doing prior to death. It was a difficult case, but Kirkland knew he had to solve it, some way.

He was currently at a local bar, off duty. Well, he told himself he was always on duty in case some dog thought he was sly enough to pull a fast one on the innocent. He sat, drinking coffee and going over the paper. He was waiting for someone. An old friend that he hadn't seen in three years.

The bell above the door chimed, and Arthur looked up. There he was. Alfred Jones. Tall, blond, blues eyes, glasses. Strong build and an amazing smile. Arthur felt himself melt a little. His dirty little secret was one that the public would hose him for. Homosexuality was a big red No, and if his mother ever found out, it would break her heart.

Good thing she was still in England.

Arthur watched as Alfred ordered a cup of coffee before waltzing over to him, taking a seat across the table.

"How long have you been waiting?" Alfred asked casually. He didn't know what just his presence did to Arthur, did he?

"Not for very long." Which was the truth. He had only been in the bar for about twenty minutes. Alfred looked satisfied and continued to sip his coffee, reading the back of the paper in Arthur's hands. They were quiet for some time, Arthur weighing his feelings and trying to focus on the news instead of Alfred's handsome face.

"So Arthur, is there a wife at home I should know about?" Alfred said it as if he were asking about the weather. It caught Arthur off guard and caused him to choke on his coffee a little. He set the paper down and kept his eyes averted.

"No, there isn't anyone at my place. Why do you ask?" Arthur really hoped that he wouldn't be caught. It was difficult hiding things.

Alfred snatched up the paper Arthur had set down.

"No reason really. It's just been a while. Wanted to see if my old buddy ever took a liking to any broads."

That was understandable. He was almost thirty and still hadn't a wife. Reason being he was not interested. He also couldn't fake love to a woman. That wasn't fair in the least. He must had put on a sour look, because Alfred clicked his tongue and waved his hand in the air.

"No big deal. I know you're busy with work and don't have much time for silly things like a wife and kids."

Arthur nodded his head, still looking at the chipped up table. He hoped God could forgive him if he ever came to terms with his feelings and told Alfred. Would the man be disgusted with him? Probably. Could he handle being shunned by one of his closest friends?

Alfred stood and went to refill both their cups. While he was getting them more coffee, Arthur stared at Alfred's strong back, seeing the white number fifty on the jacket that Alfred had worn since he was younger. In truth, he should have been thinking about the case, but he, for the first time in a long time, he didn't want to. He wanted nothing more than to take Alfred back to his house and-

"Arthur? You okay there?"

He was snapped out of his thoughts, face tinting pink. He said he was fine and took the fresh cup that was handed to him.

"So what's the case you're working on now? Anything interesting?"

At this, Arthur perked up. He loved talking about his job.

"Yes, thank you for asking. It is a strange one though. So far, three men have been brutally raped, then murdered. The victims were all single, hard working men that were last seen at Levings Bar around one A.M. The bartender there said they had left at their usual time, and that there was no one suspicious who followed them out. It seems as though someone had followed them into their home, uninvited or not, and the crime was committed there. I'm a little stumped as to where to go with this. Maybe I should set up a surveillance officer to watch the men who come and go into the bar? That might be to tedious though, what with how popular that place is."

When Arthur finished, Alfred was looking at him with a blank expression. Arthur thought he might have talked about it too much, but Alfred had asked….

"I don't know what to do either Artie. Sorry I can't be of any help."

Arthur relaxed back into his seat. It was okay, Alfred wasn't mad. Plus, he had used the nickname that only Alfred was allowed to use, and it made Arthur's heart beat just a tiny bit faster.

"It's quite alright. I'll figure it out somehow. I always do."

Though this time, Arthur wasn't as confident. Hopefully his partner was finding some useful information. Alfred picked the conversation back up, telling Arthur of all the places he had been the past three years. It was nice to hear Alfred talk again, because he always got so animate. Arthur listened intently until it was time for Alfred to go, and time for Arthur to clock in.

* * *

><p>"Look Arthur, I already told that the woman doesn't know anything. Why do you insist that <em>you <em>have to interrogate her?"

Arthur and his partner Francis Bonnefoy were currently at Levings Bar. Arthur was stuck on the idea that someone in the establishment knew something. The person that seemed most likely was the last victims ex girlfriend.

"_Look_ Bonnefoy, she might know something. I have a feeling she could give use at least a little information."

Francis rolled his eyes and took a seat at the bar. He motioned for Arthur to go ahead to the woman in the corner. Arthur knew he had to get something out of her, anything. Arthur walked up and sat down across from her, watching the way her dim eyes shined in the yellow lamp light as she sucked on the end of a cigarette.

"Detective Kirkland. Might I ask you some questions Miss Hedervary?"

The woman stared at Arthur. She pulled the stick from her mouth and blew the smoky air upwards.

"Go right ahead honey. But please, call me Eliza."

Arthur would do no such thing; it was unprofessional. He took out his notebook, scanning over possible questions he had thought up over the past two weeks.

"What can you tell me about your ex, Gilbert Beilschmidt?" Arthur watched her closely.

"That fag? Ha. He was a mistake, that's what he was. I get with him, fall in love. I want to marry him but does he want that? Nope, wants nothing to do with that. Said he doesn't want to be tied down. So I gave him the boot, and he was perfectly fine with it."

Arthur had listened carefully. Everything seemed true enough. So Gilbert hadn't wanted a steady relationship, just someone convenient to get with. Moving on.

"Were you mad at him, mad enough to try to take him out?"

Eliza's eyes widened and she took a quick drag.

"I was only a little ruffled that he would rather watch the other men at the bar than go dancing with me. I made a mistake, and I might regret that, but I would never hurt him. He was sweet to me, and it's a shame he was murdered."

She was telling the truth, Arthur could hear it plainly in the sympathy of her voice.

"What about when you saw him last? We're you at this bar the night he was murdered?"

"Yes, I come here every Tuesday and Friday night. I saw him come in alone, and leave alone. I was busy chatting with another man, so I didn't really see who he was talking to."

Arthur wrote down some of this information. He didn't really need to, but it might help. He stood and tipped his head in thanks.

"Thank you for your help Miss."

"Any time detective."

He walked back to Francis, who was conversing with a lovely lady in red sitting next to him at the bar. Arthur frowned and tapped his partner on the shoulder. Francis turned to him, smile in place.

"Find anything out?"

"Not much. We should get going, there are more people to talk to."

Francis slipped out of his chair. He apologized to the woman, said he would see her soon and reluctantly left with Arthur.

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, there were seven dead in total.<p>

Arthur sat at his desk, pulling at his hair. Why was this so difficult? Whoever this killer was, they were damn good. There had been no new information. It was puzzling. Why was the killer doing what he was? Did he get satisfaction out of it? It stumped Arthur and he set down his notes, sighing.

Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. Arthur said to come in, and the door swung opened, revealing Alfred holding a bag and two cups.

"Hey Artie. Thought I'd drop by with some lunch."

Arthur smiled and cleared his desk, making room for Alfred. He had forgotten that it was already noon. He had been up since five going over all the possible suspects and information. Truth was, there wasn't really any suspects, just the highest sought after criminals in the L.A. area. Arthur took the sandwich handed to him and unwrapped it. Alfred sat on the edge of his desk, taking a bite of his own food.

For a while, they ate in silence. Alfred looked around Arthur's office, seeing some awards, filing cabinets, the American hanging from the wall.

"Have you ever been in love, Arthur?"

Arthur almost choked on the bread in his mouth. He swallowed harshly then took a drink of coffee.

"Why do you ask that?"

Alfred shrugged, still gazing around the room. Arthur didn't know what he was trying to get at. It was messing with his head. Then and there Arthur felt like confessing, but he feared the worst. His emotions were running high. He had to swallow his pride and answer the question. Alfred sat patiently, waiting.

"Yes, I have been."

Alfred grinned and picked up his cup, taking a sip.

"Care to share?"

He was trying to ruffle Arthur's feathers, he just knew it. Arthur wondered why Alfred would care to know about his love life. If he revealed too much it might ruin him. But it was tearing at him inside that he had a secret. He hated keeping secrets.

"It was a while ago. I fell for them pretty hard. It's over now though. It was just a silly crush….He only sees me as a friend..."

Alfred raised his eyebrows, looking at Arthur over his cup. He brought it down slowly and set it on the table. The room was silent, and Arthur watched Alfred closely, like he would watch a suspect when interrogating them. Then Alfred's upper lip twitched. His bright eyes focused in on Arthur as he leaned forward.

"Does this man have a name?"

Arthur adverted his eyes to his desk, trying not the look at Alfred. He spotted his forgotten coffee and used it as an excuse.

"The coffee is getting cold…"

Alfred moved in closer. He saw how Arthur's hands were in his lap, shaking slightly. A look to his face and those green eyes darted around the room, flicking everywhere but at him. Alfred lifted his hand slowly and gently touched Arthur's face, startling the man. Arthur finally looked at him, expression a little confused. Alfred slid his hand along from below Arthur's ear to his chin, holding it as he spoke.

"You should come to my place tonight. I would like to discuss something…personal with you."

Alfred let go of Arthur's face. He stood, taking his half eaten sandwich and cup of coffee with him.

Arthur sat, stunned. What had just happened? Did Alfred just invite him over? Arthur's mind raced with questions. He tried to focus back on the case, but he could not. All Arthur wanted to do was go to Alfred's and have everything settled.

His coffee was cold and he wasn't hungry anymore, stomach in knots over what Alfred wanted to talk about. Arthur took to staring out his window. The rest of day went by in a blur.

* * *

><p>It had started to rain.<p>

Arthur parked his car outside Alfred's house. Despite the coolness the rain brought, he was sweating. Arthur's hands slipped from the steering wheel and he turned to key. He listened to the rain pound on the hood of his car. It was now or never.

Arthur opened the door and got out. He almost forgot his keys to lock the vehicle up. Love worked in strange ways. He jogged to the house so he wouldn't get too wet. He knocked four times, hoping Alfred could hear it over the rain. When the door opened a few seconds later, Arthur thought that Alfred might have been waiting close by.

"Come in Arthur. Looks like this rain came out of nowhere, huh?"

He took a seat in the living room. The large floral couch was hideous, but it suited the house. Alfred was only renting it for the short while he was going to be in L.A. He remembered something Alfred had said, something about finishing some work here before he had to go to Canada. His mind was too clouded though. The instant Alfred sat down next to him with a hot cup of tea, his heart stuttered.

Arthur was in Alfred's house. Alone with him. They were going to discuss something personal. Arthur took a drink of the tea. It warmed him up, almost a little too much. Arthur remembered that he hadn't been in Alfred's house ever, and he blushed a little, looking around some more. It was pretty plain.

Then Arthur noticed it, a little square packet on the coffee table. He had seen it on a billboard before, but couldn't remember the name, or what they were used for. His attention was pulled though when Alfred set a hand on his thigh and dragged it slowly up. Arthur jumped slightly and set down his half empty cup, not wanting to spill it. It seemed like Alfred got straight to the point, but why?

"A-Alfred, what are you doing?" It stunned Arthur that Alfred was touching him a little more than friendly. His heart quickened it's pace, waiting for Alfred to answer.

"You like me, don't you?"

Arthur shivered, heat dropping low into his stomach at that tone of voice.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Shh. Let me love you then."

Arthur's mouth hung open at what Alfred had said. His body turned hot. Too hot. He watched Alfred's hand slid up to his chest where it stopped and started to rub slow circles. His mind was blank as what to do, so he sat still as Alfred slid over, straddling his legs, knees digging into the couch. Alfred brought up his free hand to Arthur's chin and held it, like he had done earlier that day. Slowly, Alfred's face came closer and he kissed Arthur lightly.

At first, Arthur was stunned. Everything he had wished for was happening, and he was feeling like a virgin girl. He had to get his act together. Arthur responded to Alfred's teasing lips, slipping his eyes closed. Alfred's hand on his chest stopped it's movements and sought out the buttons on Arthur's shirt. He undid them with expertise and pushed the thin shirt from Arthur's shoulders and the smaller man shrugged it off.

Arthur pulled back, breath shallow. He hadn't been kissed in what seemed like forever. He knew he was out of practice but Alfred was… amazing, everything about him was. Arthur grew confidence and lifted his hands up to Alfred's back. He took hold of his shirt and pulled. It came off as Alfred sat up straight, knocking his glasses askew. Arthur was about to apologize but Alfred descended on him again, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. Arthur succumbed to the teasing, the fire in him sparking.

Alfred turned him to the side, until Arthur had his head on the arm rest of the couch, legs spread out on the worn cushions. Arthur held on to Alfred's back as the bigger man pulled his slacks off along with his underwear. The air was cool, but Arthur's body was the opposite. It burned wherever Alfred would touch. For a moment, Alfred seemed to take all of Arthur's small body in. There was a flash of…something in those blues eyes, but Arthur couldn't read it. He didn't really care to, either.

A hot hand ran down the length of his body, stopping at the underside of Arthur's right thigh. It pushed, and Arthur got the hint to lift his leg up. He placed it on Alfred's shoulder, then did the same with the other one. Alfred smiled at him, and Arthur's heart soared at the silent reward.

As Alfred unbuttoned his own pants, he reached over to the table and grabbed the square that Arthur had seen earlier. He ripped it open with his teeth and then held it there as he pulled his pants down a little ways. Arthur stared at the length now touching his own, admiring how much larger it was. Would it fit? Arthur hoped it would.

Alfred wasted no time in putting on the condom. He held Arthur open and debated on whether he should prepare him any or not. He went with the latter and pushed in without any warning. It caught Arthur off guard, how much it burned. He tried his best to relax, but it wasn't helping.

And Alfred wasn't stopping.

Arthur tried to tell Alfred to slow down, but the air was knocked from him when Alfred gave a forceful push. It felt like he was split in two, the pain was so intense. Arthur clawed at Alfred's back, drawing dark red marks. Alfred leaned over him more as he reached down and took out something that had been under the couch.

It was a rope.

It was slid around his neck easily, and Arthur panicked. He didn't know what to do. One minute everything was wonder and now… Alfred's face was scaring him. It was twisted in a sick smile, but disgust was clearly on his face. He managed to gasp out a 'why' and Alfred laughed darkly. He tied the rope so that it was like a noose and pulled. It bit into Arthur's neck, but he could still breath. Arthur's eyes stung as tears spilt from them, trailing down the side of his face and making the rope damp.

"Why, you ask? Because people like you disgust me. I even disgust myself. You think I like being a fag? It's disgusting. I still can't believe you haven't figured it out yet. I'm the killer Artie. _Me_, your best friend, and the man who is going to kill you."

Arthur's eyes widened, the pain ten times worse because Alfred was pulling on the rope slowly, never stopping his thrusts. Alfred was the killer? More importantly, he was going to hill _him_? It didn't make any sense, nor did it fit together. How could Alfred be like this? He wasn't the person he remembered.

Finally, Arthur found some of his voice. "Who are you? You are not the man I feel in love with!" Then he coughed harshly, blood spilling on his lips. His vision blurred as the rope on his neck tightened. Alfred smiled down at him, expression now soft.

"Artie, it's me, Alfred. I'm the same person you love. I will always be your love, alright? No need to cry, I'm here for you."

Alfred brought his head down, kissing Arthur's bloodied lips a few times, transferring the metallic liquid to his own. His tongue licked at it and he smiled softly.

"Goodbye, my love."

The rope was pulled hard one last time. Alfred held it tight, watching Arthur bring his hands to it and struggle with it. Arthur tried his hardest to get it off, but his hands were wet with sweat. He felt his vision fade and heart beat faster and faster. He tried to get air, but his throat was closed off. His lungs burned and head swam.

Then, there was darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ….Sooo…I have a friend who inspired me to write this, and helped me through it, and was drooling over every bit it as it came together. He thought it would be wonderful if Arthur died. I hated the fact, but thought it fitting. Not every story should have a happy ending. Even though this is suppose to be about USUK love…well, it is sort of. I'm sorry if this broke any of your hearts, but I enjoyed writing this time period and whole detective/murder thing. I of course used information from L.A. Noire to help me out! Oh yes, and they did have condoms in the 1920's, I checked several websites. So, thank you for reading! Please try to refrain from telling me I'm horrible, I already know I am XD And if you want, take the ending as…whatever you want. He could have just passed out…? :)**


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